


Yesterday and Tomorrow

by Falcon_Etti



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Canon-adjacent, Childhood Trauma, Escape from Jabba's, F/M, Flight back to Fleet, Han is trying to figure it out, Learning to be vulnerable, Mentions of Sex, Readjusting, Recovery, mid-rotj
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:00:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29065467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcon_Etti/pseuds/Falcon_Etti
Summary: Han's adjustments and reflections post rescue from Jabba's. What he missed, what he wants, and what he needs to do.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter One

The hovercraft took off over the dunes with Lando at the helm. They didn’t look back at the chaotic mess of fire, Jabba’s destroyed barge and who knows what else they’d left behind as they headed toward Ben Kenobi’s old place and their waiting ships. 

Chewie put his arm around Han’s shoulder, checking that he was okay. 

“Yeah, yeah, all good.” He still couldn’t see very well. It was mostly light and shadows. Even under the bright Tatooine suns, he struggled to identify the dark shapes standing nearby. 

[Maybe you should sit down. Before you fall down.]

“Said I’m okay!” Han didn’t mean to sound so short-tempered. He was grateful for the rescue, grateful that everyone was there, but he still felt confused and out of it. Still unable to process everything that happened, that his body was a mess, everything that he missed while in hibernation. 

Chewie said he’d been gone six months and that made no sense to him. Only yesterday, they were on Cloud City. A couple of days ago he was travelling on the Falcon with Leia. They were together. It was good. It felt right. But now they were all on this hovercraft, having once again escaped near death, and he had no idea where the hell she was. 

Luke was suddenly in front of him, his hands gripping Han’s shoulders. “Told you we had it covered!” He hugged Han, slapping him on the back. 

Han was startled, everything was harder when he couldn’t see or predict body language. Half of Han’s instincts came from reading people, recognizing when they were going for their blaster or about to throw a punch. But he leaned into the hug, gratitude and affection washing over him. 

“Yeah, thanks kid.” He smiled. Or he thought he smiled. He really wasn’t sure if he was producing the right facial reactions. He imagined he looked shocked and confused at every turn. He was squinting, trying not to look like sudden movements hurt. 

Han felt Luke stepped to the side, keeping a hand on Han’s shoulder, as Lando yelled from the front. “Looking good, Solo! You could use a bath but not bad considering.” 

Han felt his blood pressure rise, his heart sped up. He felt nauseous again, unsteady on his feet. It was all still recent history for him and Lando being in the rescue party didn’t erase Lando giving them up to Vader. “No, thanks to…”

[I told you. Things are different than when you left them.]

“Left them?” He would have swung toward Chewie but was afraid he might vomit. Also, it didn’t make a lot of sense when he would then be looking at a wall of dark opposed to the wall of light. And he was looking, trying to look, for someone else entirely. “Like I had a choice. Like I’m supposed to pretend none of that happened!” 

He was shouting. All his fury about going to Bespin in the first place, trusting Lando, not being able to protect Leia, not really knowing what happened to her while he was gone, rose to the surface. He was scared—not an emotion he felt often, definitely not one he would admit to—that his eyesight wouldn’t come back, that he would never fully recover from this ordeal, that he had lost Leia for good. 

“Where the hell are we going, anyway?” He was lashing out. Needed to act like he had any control over this situation. “Do we have a plan to get off this desert hell-scape?” Chewie tried putting his arm around him to calm him down but Han pushed him away. “Leave it! You’re not the one I wanna talk to right now.” 

And suddenly she was there. Her arms wrapped around him, her face against his chest. His anger was gone. There was only tender warmth, a flurry of emotions as he could finally hold on, cling to her, and ignore everything else around them. He pressed his head against hers, whispering a constant refrain. 

“Leia. Fuck. I’m sorry. Fuck. Leia. I’m sorry.” 

She pulled back and put a hand on his cheek. He still couldn’t see her beyond a small, dark shape in front of him, but he felt her warm hand against his face and it felt like home. 

“You should be sitting down. Chewie, help me. He shouldn’t be standing.” 

Han tried to protest but had to admit, to himself, that it felt better sitting and leaning up against the side. She knelt beside him, running her fingers through his hair. 

“You have a bit of a fever. Are you feeling okay?” She didn’t wait for a response. Han sensed she was rummaging through a bag. “Chewie, how was he in the cell? What symptoms did he exhibit?” 

“I’m right here, you know.” He still felt calm having her nearby but he wasn’t liking the flurry of activity that was about him but somehow still ignored him. 

“You’re going to tell me you’re fine and nothing happened.” He could hear a good-humoured lilt in her voice. “Chewie is a more reliable source.” 

[It was bad for the first few hours. Vomited a lot. Fever and sweating.]

“Okay, so we’ve already had some improvement.” She held up something in front of him. “I need you to drink some water. Just take a sip.” 

He took the water pouch from her but she kept hold as he took a sip. 

“This might make you sick again. We need to keep you hydrated as your body tries to release all the toxins.” 

“Great. Looking forward to it.” He hoped she smiled at that comment and hated that he couldn’t tell. 

[He had a lot of questions about what’s been happening.]

“That’s natural.” She was taking his pulse, checking for fever, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Luke! How much longer?”

“Maybe two hours.” Han could hear Luke speak but had no idea where he was standing. “We’re not moving terribly fast.” 

“I had saline pills in my bag but I lost that along with my disguise.” 

Han thought she was speaking to him but he wasn’t sure. 

He wanted to touch her. Stroke her cheek, run his hands up and down her arms, her back. He wanted to feel her breath against his neck, hear her whisper his name. He didn’t want to cross a line and he didn’t know what lines she wanted. She had hugged him. She was caring for him. The first time she spoke, in her own voice, after she released him from the carbon she said she loved him. But he didn’t know what they were in this world. 

Their time together was in isolation. They shared their intimacy with no one. Only Chewie was witness and Han knew that Chewie wasn’t the issue here. Their time in sublight as they made their way to Bespin was filled with raw, intense, and not just physical, intimacy. They had shared, explored and enjoyed each other so there were few barriers between them. They had fun—laughed—and cared for each other. But he knew she liked to keep her private moments private.

He wanted to tell her he could still taste her but knew that was taking things too far. Likely, no matter what she was thinking about them being together or not, she wouldn’t want Luke and Chewie to hear it. Also, Han seemed to be having a sensory overload since waking up. Other than his eyesight, all his senses were going haywire. 

He didn’t know if she still wanted the same things, still wanted him in the same way. She’d had six months to recover, maybe move on, maybe with Luke, and maybe she was here caring for him because that’s what she did. She took charge. She made sure everyone was safe. 

“Leia.” 

“Do you want some more water? Only a sip, though. We don’t want to overwhelm your system.” He sensed the water pouch in front of him again but he pushed it, gently, away. 

“Leia.” He put his hand out. He intended to touch her cheek but brushed against the side of her head instead. “Can I kiss you?” 

His voice was quiet. He had little idea how close anyone other than Chewie was and only wanted her to hear. 

She responded by taking his face in both her hands and kissing him. His heartrate rose again—in fact, it felt like his entire heart was rising in his chest—as a hand went to the back of her head. He groaned slightly against the strength of the kiss. He flicked his tongue against her lips, slipping inside her mouth, before remembering he’d spent a day being sick, not to mention six months in carbonite. He smiled instead, trying to focus on her face, and ran a hand up and down her side. 

That’s when he noticed her bare flesh and the metal bra. 

“Jabba dressed you.” He kept his voice calm but knew his face betrayed his anger. 

“He did.” Leia rested her palms on his chest. She let out a slow breath. “But I’ve fixed it so he won’t do that to another female ever again.” 

Han gave her a lop-side grin. “That’s my girl.” 

“You need to drink more. We have to work those toxins out. I’m worried you’ll go into shock.” She held up the pouch and he took a small sip. 

He played with the corner of the blanket she had wrapped around herself. It was scratchy and probably not terribly comfortable but he understood it was better than baking under the hot suns and exposing so much skin. 

“Did he drink anything when you were in the cell?” 

[Gave him what was there but that wasn’t much.]

“Hey.” 

“Probably wasn’t terribly clean water either.” She was checking his pulse again. 

[Nothing in there was clean.]

“Leia.” He looked at her, hoping he was looking at her eyes. “Are you still my…” He stopped and quickly shifted in his seat, closing his eyes. “Fuck.” 

He turned away from her and, unfortunately, toward Chewie and vomited on to the deck. Very little came up, since there was very little in his stomach, but the Wookie was very quick to get out of the way. 

A rush of cold passed over his body and he suddenly felt like he might pass out. He couldn’t lift his head without the hovercraft and everyone on it seemingly spinning out of control. He sensed Luke kneeling beside Leia. Han opened his eyes to see their two dark shapes huddled close together. 

“Everything okay?” Luke’s voice was concerned. He was clearly worried about this turn of events. 

“I think his fever is going up.” She put a hand on the back of Han’s neck. He was still leaned to the side, waiting to see if anything else came up. “We need to get him cooled down. It’s too hot out here.” 

Han turned to look at them. He saw Luke kiss the side of her head. 

“We’re moving as fast as we can.” Luke’s voice was gentle, kind. Han could hear affection, love, in every word. “Maybe we can rig up a shelter of some sort. I’ll see what I can find.” 

Luke moved off and Leia helped Han sit up again. 

He couldn’t finish his question now. Couldn’t ask if she was still his girl. What if she hesitated? What if she didn’t want to be with anyone? Her life was the Rebellion. She didn’t like too many distractions. What if she was now Luke’s girl? A lot can happen in six months. Not for Han. But everyone else must have moved on. 

He felt terrible. Truly awful. It was like no sickness he’d encountered before. No physical or emotional pain he’d felt before. This was uncharted territory and not the good kind. 

Chewie and Luke worked together, moving around the deck, putting up something that was already creating a bit of shade over him. Everyone was talking, Leia and Lando included, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. It was a wall of noise. He assumed no one was addressing him so let the sounds wash over him. 

He found Leia’s hand and squeezed it as best he could. 

“Stay here,” he said but wasn’t sure if she heard him. He fell sound asleep leaning against the side of the hovercraft.


	2. Chapter Two

He woke up when the hovercraft stopped. At first, Han thought his eyesight had worsened until Leia informed him they were in the midst of a sandstorm. 

“In that case, maybe my sight is improving.” 

She kissed his cheek as she and Chewie helped him stand. 

They were at the Falcon and he’d never been so happy to (almost) see his ship. He ran his hand along the hull, up the ramp and along the corridor, letting her know he’d returned. The Falcon had been his home through most of his adult life, the only place he’d ever considered home, and he liked to believe she missed him just as much. 

Lando was already inside. While Threepio settled himself at the recharging station and Chewie headed to the cockpit, Lando stood in the lounge, waiting for the others to board.

“Nothing’s changed since you left. I swear.” Lando spoke in his usual sing-song patter, always sounding like he was trying to sell you something. 

Chewie called from the cockpit. [Not that you didn’t try!]

“Not true. I was under strict orders to touch nothing. I piloted her, that’s all.” 

“You flew her?” Han was slowly making his way around the lounge, running his hand along surfaces. He’d stopped at the engineering table, ostensibly to respond to Lando but really because he needed to steady himself. 

“Always with Chewie. He and the princess were always in charge.” Han thought he could sense sincerity in Lando’s voice and that threw him a bit. “It’s been good seeing her again. I know it sounds crazy but I’m pretty sure L3 remembers me.” 

Han felt Leia’s hand on his back. His shirt was sticking to him. He was breaking out in a sweat and starting to shiver at the same time. It wasn’t a great feeling. 

“Hey,” he said. “Thanks for taking good care of her. Chewie told me she’s running good right now.” 

“Glad to help,” Lando said. “However, I can.” 

There was a moment’s pause as each man wondered what to do next. That was the most heartfelt thing either had said to the other in the more than many years they’d known each other. Now, it just felt awkward. 

“Okay.” Leia broke the tension. “We need to get you to bed. And I should check in with Luke.” 

They had separated quickly when they reached the ships. The sandstorm prevented any lengthy goodbyes. 

“I need to talk to him, too.” Han found the chair and sat down. He reached for the comms unit on the table. 

“I got it.” Leia had Han sit back while she sent a signal out to Luke in his X-Wing. They sent their proper goodbyes, Han offered an additional thanks for the rescue, and signed off. 

“Okay, no more excuses, Hot Shot.” She kept her hand on his back as they walked down the corridor, leaving Chewie and Lando to lock down the ship and prepare for take-off. 

Han sat on the bunk and she started pulling his boots off. 

“I can do it on my own.” He pushed her hands away. 

“But you don’t have to.” She pulled off one boot then the other. “I think you need a shower. Are you up for it?” 

“I’m not an invalid.” She didn’t respond. Instead, she undid some clasps on his shirt. “Just a bit slow. Been through a lot lately, you know.” 

“Yes. I’d heard something about that.” She pulled his shirt over his head and let out a small gasp. “Sorry. You’re still bruised.” She gingerly touched the bruises on his side, the cuts along his chest. “I forgot the injuries from Cloud City would still be intact. I wasn’t thinking.” 

Han flashed to the scan grid Vader strapped him to, not for information but to demonstrate how much pain he could inflict, and the guards who beat him while imprisoned. 

“Guess that means I’m six months behind in aging.” He was trying to make her laugh. Distract her from his wounds. 

“And I’ve aged at least two years.” 

“Looks like you’re catching up.” 

She ran her hand over his chest, careful not to press too hard. “I’ll get you some bacta after the shower. Now, you need to stand up.” 

She got him into the fresher and told him to remove his pants. “I’ll be back in a minute.” 

He did as he was told. He first brushed his teeth, rinsing out his mouth, then turned on the water for the shower. Thankfully, he knew every piece of the Falcon so well he could find his way around by touch. He stepped inside the stall and used both hands to steady himself. With eyes closed, he lowered his head under the water. 

The temperature wasn’t quite right, too hot or too cold, his body needing the opposite of whatever it found, but it felt good to wash away the layers of sweat and grime. His body ached. He felt like one big bruise. He wanted more sleep but losing himself, losing more time, felt unfair. 

She returned wearing a light robe, something she must have brought with her, and carrying some clothes for him. “They’re going to wait for take-off until you’re in bed.” 

“Remind me to fix this water pressure.” He didn’t look up as he spoke. 

“I’ve heard that one before,” she said. 

He reached out, took her hand and pulled her toward him. 

“We’ve tried this before, too.” 

“Think it’ll be less active this time around.” 

He liked shower sex. He’d pulled her in a few times before, pressed her against the wall, her legs wrapped around his hips. Or knelt in front of her with one of her legs over his shoulder. He loved the sound of her moans in the tiny chamber, the cool metal of the walls and hot water against his skin. He could never seem to get enough of her. Everything about Leia made him want more. 

She took off her robe and stepped in. 

Supporting himself with one hand against the wall and the other on her hip, he closed his eyes again and rested his forehead against hers. 

She lathered up and gently washed his body and hair. He moved as she moved him. Lifted his arms. Shifted his feet. Turned around. Then she rinsed him until he was clean. 

Leia turned off the water and stepped out of the stall. “Don’t get upset but I made a couple of additions.” 

“Should I be worried?” He carefully stepped out of the shower and she handed him a towel. A new, far less scratchy, probably more absorbent towel then he was used to. “Nah. This is good.” 

“Okay,” she said. “That was a promising start. Let’s see how you feel about this one.” She handed him a pair of sleep pants. 

“I can’t really see that.” He dried himself, leaning with one hand against the wall to steady himself. “Pants? You got me a pair of pants?” 

“Stop acting like I’m trying to domesticate you. You’ll appreciate them if you get the chills again.” She put her robe back on. “Are you okay getting dressed?” 

“I know how to dress myself.” He appreciated her help but this was starting to get irritating. If he didn’t still feel exhausted, chilled and feverish, and slightly nauseous, he’d give her a piece of his mind. 

He managed to get the pants on without falling over. She worked in silence, gently applying the bacta gel and bandages. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, focusing on her touch, her soft hands, and pushing aside the pain and nausea. 

“Here,” she said. “T-shirt.” 

He pulled the t-shirt over his head and followed her back into the cabin. 

He had started to think of it as their cabin. It wasn’t a conscious decision and maybe he hadn’t said it out loud but their weeks together in flight created a shared space. The Falcon was his ship but he belonged to Leia so it all blended together. 

Han had never lacked confidence. Some accused him of being all confidence and little brain. The truth was, though, that extra bit of cocky attitude got him through a lot of scraps and into some sweet deals. When he and Leia first got together, he was all confidence. Didn’t matter than they made no sense on paper. They were into each other and it was crazy to keep pretending there was nothing between them. And he was right. It was better than he suspected and she expected. Beyond good. 

But now he was off his game. He’d led them right into a trap. His old debt for old mistakes caught up with him. It didn’t matter how confident or cocky or how good a pilot he was. He lost. He almost lost Leia and Chewie, the Falcon. Luke came to their rescue and still seemed to be suffering from whatever happened to him on Bespin. He put everyone at risk because he thought he could talk or fly his way out of any mess. And he was wrong. 

“Come on.” She pulled back the bedding for him. “Get in.” 

He sat on the edge of the bunk again and she stood in front of him. He put his hands on her hips and realized she was wearing one of his old t-shirts. It was her nighttime uniform, casual and comfortable, and something he loved. At least he knew she intended to get in the bunk with him. That was a good sign. 

“Hand, please.” He held out his hand and she placed two pills in his palm. “Water.” She handed him the glass. “Drink.” He did as she asked. 

She felt his forehead. “You’re still burning up. I don’t like this. Lie down. You need to rest.” 

He didn’t move. “Hey.” He looked up at her, even though his vision was still suspect. 

“Han, you need to rest. Stop delaying.” 

“Who knows about us?” 

She shifted slightly. “What do you mean? Are you worried?” 

He shook his head. “I just don’t know. I don’t know what people know. Or who knows.”

“Do you mean about before, what happened before Bespin, or now?” She sounded tentative. Like she was feeling him out. 

“Is there a difference?” He swallowed. He said that a bit too sharply. 

She kept still. They were both feeling careful, testing the limits but not wanting to push too far in case something broke. Her voice was quiet. “I didn’t think there’s a difference.” 

He dropped his head, resting it against her stomach. He took a deep breath, trying to regulate his breathing. She ran her fingers through his wet hair. 

“It was yesterday for me.” He had more to say but didn’t know how to say it. He gripped her thighs and hoped she understood. 

“There will be some adjusting but you don’t have to worry about me.” She rubbed his back, working through the tension and pain he was holding. “Us.” 

He sat up straight again. “Does Luke know?” 

She nodded. 

“Still can’t see you, Sweetheart.” 

Leia gave a small chuckle. “Yes. Luke knows. Not details but he knows.” 

“What’s going on with the kid? He seems a bit intense. Is that all Jedi stuff?” 

Han moved his hands up to her waist. His thumbs turned soft circles around her hip bones. She returned to running her fingers through his hair, tucking stray bits back. 

“He’s not providing many details either. Not sure how much Chewie told you but Luke fought Vader on Bespin. Lost his hand. Something else happened, more than his physical injuries. I don’t know what, though. He’s seems to want to work through it on his own.” 

“You guys spend a lot of time together? While I was gone.” It was still hard to admit he was gone for so long. He knew it was true but somehow still hard to believe. 

“Yes. And no.” She rested her arms on his shoulders, clasping her hands behind his neck. “Even when we were together there was a distance. He was… wherever his mind was taking him. Back to his training. On Bespin with Vader. And I was worrying about you, learning about carbon sickness, trying to get you back.” 

“I’m sorry, Leia. Honest. I’m so sorry.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“It was my fucking bounty! Chewie said it was Fett who led the Empire there. If I’d taken care of it years ago this wouldn’t have happened.”

“If you took care of it years ago you would have been gone. Long ago.” 

He shook his head. He kissed her stomach, then between her breasts. He felt his forehead stick to her shirt, his skin clammy and wet. “I would have come back. Know that now, even if I wouldn’t have admitted it then.” 

“Hey.” She tilted his chin so he faced her again. “We can’t dwell on what ifs. This is where we are and I’m very happy, very relieved, to have you back.” She kissed him softly. 

“Fuck, Leia.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know how I got here. With you, I mean.” 

“Not complaining, are you?”

“No. Bit worried you’re gonna come to your senses, though.” 

“Well, if I didn’t figure it out in the six months you were gone, I’m probably a lost cause.” He was pretty sure she was smiling. She sounded like she was smiling. “Besides, I’ll soon go back to the Alliance full-time so I’ll have no time to come to my senses.” 

“Go back?” 

“You need to lie down.” She pushed on his shoulders slightly to move him back. He was more pliable than she expected and almost fell. His head landed on the pillow. “Under the covers, Hot Shot.” 

“This pillow smells like you.” 

“Because that’s where I sleep.” She kissed his forehead. “I’m going to get you a cold cloth for your head. This fever worries me.”

He took hold of her hand before she could leave. “Why did you say go back?”

Leia sighed. “I had to take time here and there to help with the rescue plan. This wasn’t Alliance-sponsored but they gave us leave.” 

He closed his eyes, almost groaned. “What are you doing, Leia? You gave up work. To find me?” 

“Listen.” She leaned in close, arms resting on the bunk beside him. “I can do more than one thing at a time. I can care about more than one thing at a time. I only figured that out recently—let’s say, oh, about six months ago—and it’s not something I am going to give up easily or soon forget.” 

There was a knock on the door followed by Lando’s voice. “Hey, in there! Ready to go?” 

Leia stood up again. “Yes! Sorry. We’re all good in here.” 

“Great. Take off in five.” 

Han grabbed her wrist as she walked to the door. 

“I need to get you a cold cloth. I’ll be right back.”

He waited until she was back in the bunk to fall asleep.


	3. Chapter Three

He woke up, lying on his back with Leia snuggled into his side, her head on his chest. Her arm was stretched over his torso and he was holding her hand. He remembered the first morning they woke up together on the Falcon. It was a little over a month ago for him but, in reality, more than seven. They woke up in almost the exact same position.

He felt less feverish but more chilled. He must have sweated a considerable amount because his t-shirt and pillow were now damp and cold. He wondered how Leia could stand sleeping so close to him, either when he was sweating or now that he was clammy and cold. Yet, there she was. 

Turning his head, only slightly since it was difficult to move, he checked the chrono near the bunk. Only halfway through their flight. How could he have ‘slept’ for six months and still be so exhausted? His temperature was surging and dropping in a constant cycle as his body tried to regulate itself. He should probably drink more water but there was no way he could get out of the bunk at that moment. It felt like a weight pressed against him, holding him in place. 

He lifted his arm, with some difficulty, and rested it on Leia’s hip. He was worried about her. Taking a leave from the Alliance to rescue him, spending any time away or not being entirely focused on the Alliance, was a shock. She worked tireless, endlessly, for the cause. During their trip to Bespin she was cut off. There was no contact with base, no missions or battles to plan, no supplies to replenish. He assumed that meant she would devote extra energy, making up for lost time, when she returned. 

When they’d first met, immediately following Alderaan’s destruction, work saved her. Her grief was too consuming, her guilt too deep. Her devotion, dedication, obsession with bringing the Empire to its knees prevented her from crumbling into a heap. It gave her all the reason she needed to keep going. Han knew that shifted over time. She forged friendships with him, Luke, Chewie, even some of the Rogues, but her focus was winning the war, restoring the Republic, bringing safety and equality back to the galaxy. It never occurred to him that she wouldn’t do the same post-Bespin, post-him. 

She’d lost weight. He didn’t know if his eyesight had improved, the cabin lights were down, but he could tell. He could feel the difference. He hated that no one was there to push her to eat. Chewie was gone most of the time. Luke was in his own head, dealing with whatever he was dealing with. Besides, it had been Han’s self-appointed job. 

Mostly he harassed her, irritated her with his questions, his insistence on pushing her unfinished tray of food back at her. When she wasn’t distracted by work, consumed by all the things she needed to do, she had a big appetite. Dinners on the Falcon, when they were all together and enjoying each other, meant she often finished her plate and picked at whatever he left behind. She had a lot of energy, a high metabolism. But she forgot to eat. Or told herself ‘I need to do these six things first’ and then it was the middle of the night and getting those few hours of sleep was the priority. He was going to have to figure out a way to get her a large meal and the time to consume it all. 

Leia stirred. She lifted her head to look at him and smiled when she saw he was awake. 

“How are you feeling?” She sounded sleep soaked. 

“Okay.” His voice was rough and scratchy. Maybe he was too exhausted to even form words. “Surprised I can still sleep.” 

“It’s going to take a bit to recover. We’ll know more when we get you to the med center.”

“No way. I can sleep it off. Be ready for anything by tomorrow.” 

She raised herself on one elbow, her other arm still across his torso, his hand still on her hip. “This isn’t open for discussion. You need tests, bone scans, bloodwork, saline and electrolytes. Probably supplements. I know your eyesight will come back but we have to check for any damage.” 

“I can already see better. Almost see the whites of your eyes.” 

“Improved, yes. Not back to normal. And if a stay in the med center means you are back to normal sooner, then it’s worth it.” 

“Stay? No. I’ll agree to a trip and some tests but that’s it.” 

She put her hand on his cheek. “It’s adorable you’re arguing with me about this but you’re not going to win. You know that. So, let’s move on.” She put her head back down on his chest. She could feel the rumble of his small chuckle. 

He expected that they would both fall asleep but he started talking. It surprised even him. 

“When you got me out, back at Jabba’s, it felt like one minute I was being dropped into the chamber and the next I was freezing and on the floor.” He started drawing small circles on her hip with his thumb. It was a grounding force while he talked. “At first, it was like there was nothing in between.” 

She nuzzled his chest and squeezed his hand to let him know she was listening. 

“Like I took a deep breath and it was…” 

He could remember feeling scared as he lowered into the carbon freezing chamber. Terrified that he had finally reached his end just as he was ready to find a new beginning. She told him she loved him but he couldn’t say it back. He said, ‘I know’ because in those few seconds he had to process everything he wanted her to know. That he saw her, understood her, felt her love. That he wasn’t going to his death not knowing what they shared. Maybe if he had a few seconds more he would have said it back. 

More likely, he would have been as tongue-tied as he was now. He was still unable to admit he wanted a life with her. That he was scared it wouldn’t happen, scared that it might come true, that he never wanted to be the reason for her tears again. But those words didn’t come so he tried to let other, maybe less vulnerable, pieces out. 

“Then I exhaled and you were there again.” 

“I was so worried that you would be aware the whole time.” She kissed his chest, snuggled in a bit closer. 

“Don’t know. Maybe I was. Or it was all black. All void. Didn’t remember any of the in-between that first bit but things were coming back when I was in the cell with Chewie. Not sure if it’s stuff that happened when I was out and I was remembering. Like, you don’t think you dreamed but later in the day you remember something. Memories and dreams all mixed up. Or like my brain was rebooting so stuff was coming back up.” 

“You were remembering things from hibernation? From before?” 

“Before memories. But more like I was reliving them.” He was searching for the words. Trying to pull these thoughts down and shape them so she would understand. “Not so much memories. Maybe. More senses. Feelings. I guess. It was like the circuits were all messed up. Misfiring.” 

“I like that you always find a way to compare yourself to the Falcon. In case your devotion was ever in doubt.” 

He tried lift his head to kiss her hair but he didn’t have the strength. Instead, his hand took hold of her hair and gently played with the end of her braid. 

“For a while, sitting in that cell with Chewie, I thought I was having a stroke or something cos I could smell this bakery. Don’t even know the last time I thought about it. The last solid thing I remember was looking at you cos I wanted that to be the last thing I saw in case it was the last thing I ever saw. Then I’m sitting in a cell in Jabba’s Palace, no idea what’s happening or where you are and if you’re okay. I feel sick, can’t see, but I can smell this bakery.”

Han paused. He wasn’t sure where he was going with this story. It didn’t seem to have a point. He had no end game. It just felt something he wanted to share with her. 

“I was a kid. Little.” He gave her braid a gentle tug. “Don’t ask how old cos I don’t know. Maybe seven? Six? A lot of restaurants and stores backed on this alley so was pretty easy to find food and, you know, I wasn’t alone. Always lots of people looking for scraps. “

“That was good? To have other people around?” 

He could hear the tentativeness in her voice. He had shut her down, shut her out, so many times that she cautiously participated in the conversation. She didn’t want to spook him. He felt an ache knowing that he made this woman who cared for others first, who was inquisitive and compassionate, ever second guess herself. 

“I know it sounds shitty or scary to you but it was actually a pretty good deal. Couldn’t trust everyone but most looked out for the next guy or would leave you alone if you left them alone. Being in a place where someone might notice if you went missing felt a hell of a lot safer than the alternative. And if you were in the right place, there were days when you could have a real feast.” He gave another low chuckle. “Maybe not a palace feast but pretty good considering.” 

She gave him a playful pinch, letting him know she understood it was a good-humoured jab. 

“The bakery was tricky, though. They didn’t drop old food out back. If you didn’t have the credits to buy something, it wasn’t leaving the building. So, most didn’t try. Wasn’t worth the time. The backdoor was open a couple times a day. Guess the place wasn’t well-vented and the workers were roasting. That’s when you could really smell it. Everything baking and fresh. It could drive you crazy.

“I was little. Like small. Small for my age. I didn’t stretch out till later. I could hide and watch from the door. Figured out the room, the patterns, timing. Things happened at the same time every day. Knew where everyone was going to be and when. Figured out how I could move across the room, hide, grab stuff.

“Mostly went for the sweet stuff. Rolls with icing or whatever cos I was a kid and that seemed like the most valuable.” He half-chuckled to himself. “Fuck, it was good.” 

Leia looked up at him again and smiled. His eyesight was definitely improving because he saw that smile and his heart did an extra beat. 

“Started swiping stuff for other people. Traded for other food, got a bed roll for some bread. Then I got a bit too cocky—yeah, yeah, I know—and tried for too much at once and got caught trying to get back out.”

He paused. It was turning into more than a recollection of a smell he’d long forgotten, of his first executed casing and heist. Maybe that was a good place to stop.

“Is that…?” She spoke carefully. “They caught you and that was it?” 

Whenever Leia spoke about her childhood, or teenage years, really anything leading up to joining the Rebellion, Han imagined everything bathed in golden sunlight. It wasn’t just the palaces and summer homes and thantras to ride. She was genuinely happy. She loved her parents. Felt loved by them. She had friends, freedom, safety. She never worried about shelter or food for herself so she worried that everyone else had what they needed. 

It was all ripped from her by the Empire, she lost it all in a matter of seconds, and he loved when she talked about those happy times. He loved when he could give her the space to remember, to enjoy and feel that safety, despite the desperate and ever-changing world they lived in. Everything around them was unpredictable and he wanted to be her one constant. 

“Got the shit beaten out of me, thrown in a detention center.” He tried to make that sound as light as possible. He didn’t want her to think it weighed him down anymore. It was a long time ago. “Lost that bed roll, too.”

“They beat you? But…” She didn’t lift her head but her voice indicated her concern. 

“Just how it goes, Sweetheart.” He sounded almost nonchalant. “Sometimes you got a beat down. Sometimes you got tossed in a center. Sometimes you got away and if you were lucky no one swiped your bed roll while you were gone.”

He really knew how to ruin a mood. Not like this was a great romantic moment but it started out nice enough. A memory of a bakery and warm smells and he turned it into a story about a little kid being beaten up and thrown into kid jail. He didn’t have stories about sunlight and thrantas and loving parents. But this was a good memory, for him at least, and it really didn’t seem like that big of deal that he was beaten up. It happened with his old man, on the streets, with the Worms and, honestly, almost every job he’d had since. Would she believe him if he told her the Rebellion was one of his safest jobs, as far as the beat down score goes? 

“Anyway. I can’t pull much from the hibernation, the sleep. Kind of a dream, not a dream. Felt like a blip that maybe lasted years.”

She didn’t say anything but he knew she was awake and listening. 

“Knew I was some place and you were someplace else. Sometimes felt like a constant cycle of everything then nothing. Everything happening at once.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “Or maybe it wasn’t like that at all and I’m deciding it was because I don’t want it to be a lot of nothing.”

Han listened to the hum of the Falcon’s hyperdrive. It sounded steady and true. It was always a reliable grounding force for him. His ship and travel and the stars. 

“And then you freed me and I was in a cell and I was stuck thinking about the smell from that bakery.”

After a minute or two, Leia sat up. She leaned over and they kissed. Gently at first but then with more urgency. Her hand on cheek, his pressing on her back pulling her in tight. They were hungry for each other. She tugged at his hair, wrapped a leg over his hips. 

“Leia,” he whispered. “I want this—I want you—right now. All of you. But I don’t think my body is going to do what I want.”

She smiled and kissed him again. “This is all I need right now. I need to feel you, to know this is real. That if I fall asleep, this won’t be a dream.” 

He could see her eyes, her smile. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a memory. It was Leia.

“I’m gonna try.” He swept back strands of loose hair. Ran his thumb along her jawline. “To be better at all this.”

She put her head back on his shoulder and he held her tight as they both fell asleep again.


End file.
